_CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO_
The singing took on body and form as the pitch rose.
"There is a death," repeated David. "Abraham is dead, the oldest and thewisest of my servants. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Gloryto His name!"
Ruth was touched to the heart.
"I am sorry," she said simply.
"Let us rejoice, rather, for Abraham is happy. His soul is reborn in ayoung body. Do you not hear them singing? Let us ride on."
He kept his head high and a stereotyped smile on his lips as the horsessprang into a gallop--that breath-taking gallop which made the spirit ofthe girl leap; but she saw his breast raise once or twice with a sigh.It was the stoicism of an Indian, she felt, and like an Indian's was thebronze-brown skin and the long hair blowing in the wind. The lake wasbeside them now, and dense forest beyond opening into pleasant meadows.She was being carried back into a primitive time of which the type wasthe man beside her. Riding without a saddle his body gave to the swingof the gallop, and she was more conscious than ever of physicalstrength.
But now the hoofs beat softly on the lawn terraces, and in a moment theyhad stopped before the house where the death had been. She knew at once.The empty arch into the patio of the servants' house was eloquent, insome manner, of the life that had departed. Before it was the group ofsingers, all standing quiet, as though their own music had silencedthem, or perhaps preparing to sing again. Connor had described the oldservant, but she was not prepared for these straight, withered bodies,these bony, masklike faces, and the white heads.
All in an instant they seemed to see her, and a flash of pleasure wentfrom face to face. They stirred, they came toward her with glad murmurs,all except one, the oldest of them all, who remained aloof with his armsfolded. But the others pressed close around her, talking excitedly toone another, as though she could not understand what they said. And shewould never forget one who took her hand in both of his. The touch ofhis fingers was cold and as dry as parchment. "Honey child, God blessyour pretty face."
Was this the formal talk of which Connor had warned her? A growl fromDavid drove them back from her like leaves before a wind. He had slippedfrom his horse, and now walked forward.
"It is Abraham?" he asked.
"He is dead and glorious," answered the chorus, and the girl trembled tohear those time-dried relics of humanity speak so cheerily of death.
The master was silent for a moment, then: "Did he leave no message forme?"
In place of answering the group shifted and opened a passage to the onein the rear, who stood with folded arms.
"Elijah, you were with him?"
"I heard his last words."
"And what dying message for David?"
"Death sealed his lips while he had still much to say. To the end he wasa man of many words. But first he returned thanks to our Father whobreathed life into the clay."
"That was a proper thought, and I see that the words were words ofAbraham."
"He gave thanks for a life of quiet ease and wise masters, and heforgave the Lord the length of years he was kept in this world."
"In that," said David gravely, "I seem to hear his voice speaking.Continue."
"He commanded us to sing pleasantly when he was gone."
"I heard the singing on the lake road. It is well."
"Also, he bade us keep the first master in our minds, for John, he said,was the beginning."
At this the face of David clouded a little.
"Continue. What word for David?"
Something that Connor had said about the pride and sulkiness of a childcame back to Ruth.
Elijah, after hesitation, went on: "He declared that Glani is too heavyin the forehead."
"Yes, that is Abraham," said the master, smiling tenderly. "He wouldargue even on the death bed."
"But a cross with Tabari would remedy that defect."
"Perhaps. What more?"
"He blessed you and bade you remember and rejoice that he was gone tohis wife and child."
"Ah?" cried David softly. His glance, wandering absently, rested on thegirl for a moment, and then came back to Elijah. "His mind went back tothat? What further for my ear?"
"I remember nothing more, David."
"Speak!" commanded the master.
The eyes of Elijah roved as though for help.
"Toward the end his voice grew faint and his mind seemed to wander."
"Far rather tremble, Elijah, if you keep back the words he spoke,however sharp they may be. My hand is not light. Remember, and speak."
The fear of Elijah changed to a gloomy pride, and now he not only raisedhis head, but he even made a step forward and stood in dignity.
"Death took Abraham by the throat, and yet he continued to speak. 'TellDavid that four masters cherished Abraham, but David cast him out like adog and broke his heart, and therefore he dies. Although I bless him,God will hereafter judge him!'"
A shudder went through the entire group, and Ruth herself was uneasy.
"Keep your own thoughts and the words of Abraham well divided," saidDavid solemnly. "I know his mind and its working. Continue, but bewarned."
"I am warned, David, but my brother Abraham is dead and my heart weepsfor him!"
"God will hereafter judge me," said David harshly. "And what was thefurther judgment of Abraham, the old man?"
"Even this: 'David has opened the Garden to one and therefore it will beopened to all. The law is broken. The first sin is the hard sin and theothers follow easily. It is swift to run downhill. He has brought inone, and another will soon follow.'"
"Elijah," thundered David, "you have wrested his words to fit the thingyou see."
"May the dead hand of Abraham strike me down if these were not hiswords."
"Had he become a prophet?" muttered David. "No, it was maundering of anold man."
"God speaks on the lips of the dying, David."
"You have said enough."
"Wait!"
"You are rash, Elijah."
She could not see the face of David, but the terror and frenzieddevotion of Elijah served her as mirror to see the wrath of the masterof the Garden.
"David has opened the gate of the Garden. The world sweeps in and shallcarry away the life of Eden like a flood. All that four masters havedone the fifth shall undo."
The strength of his ecstasy slid from Elijah and he dropped upon hisknees with his head weighted toward the earth. The others were frozen intheir places. One who had opened his lips to speak, perhaps to intercedefor the rash Elijah, remained with his lips parted, a staring mask offear. In them Ruth saw the rage of David Eden, and she was sickened bywhat she saw. She had half pitied the simplicity of this man, this gullof the clever Connor. Now she loathed him as a savage barbarian. Eventhese old men were hardly safe from his furies of temper.
"Arise," said the master at length, and she could feel his battle tocontrol his voice. "You are forgiven, Elijah, because of yourcourage--yet, beware! As for that old man whose words you repeated, Ishall consider him." He turned on his heel, and Ruth saw that his facewas iron.